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Tread Lightly - (Valkyria Chronicles)

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As I work on the next chapter, I finally found that anecdote about rifle grenades (pg 50 on document) I was looking for:

M1 Grenade Launcher Private First Class Paul Hogan, 30th Inf Div, NORMANDY: The M1 grenade launcher is really a perfect weapon. We wiped out two armored cars at about 175 yards with one round apiece from four M1's. The hits tore holes 6 to 8 inches in diameter in the sides, killing the men inside. One shell hit a gas tank and the car blew up.
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Counting Blessings
​

Kris marched into the third barracks building in a freshly-pressed uniform, forcing a smile onto her face as she came to a halt in front of her crew. "... Hiii. How are you two doing today?" the sergeant asked, voice sweeter than licorice boot laces.

Dai and Bull saw her face and scooted apart. They put on hardened stares and held their tongues.

Kris stared back for a few moments. Stared at nobody in particular, almost as if it would eventually make them ask what was bothering her. She believed it enough to keep up it up for a few seconds, though in that short span she could see the two draw deeper into their shells. Kris retreated to the platoon sergeant's badge of office, eyes falling down to the clipboard she carried more than a weapon now.

Her voice had fallen an octave or two. "... So, army shunted us down in priority for resupply. We're expected to sit tight for a day or two but... The schedule is moving faster than planned regardless. Lots of training. So-"

In the wake of the words "sit tight" the two enlisted scooted their seats back to the cards with near-simultaneous affirmatives. Kris pressed forward. "We're missing an Erma. Do we have a spare for the ring mount?"

Dai held her cards in her hand for a moment, staring over the tops like she had been accused of murder. "Nope. Just the coax."

"Barrels?" Kris asked.

"Yep," Dai answered, staring at a point in the wall behind the sergeant. Kris almost turned to look for the answer-sheet pinned up behind her.

"Gauges?"

"Yep."

"Spare periscopes?"

"Mhm."

"Tracer belts?"

"Nah," Dai said. Kris tapped her pencil on the clipboard. The private placed down the cards and climbed from her chair. "Shitty hand anyway. I'll be back in ten. If... that's good, sergeant?"

Weird how they looked at her now. After the trepidation left, a hint of a grimace remained on Bull and Dai. Get it over with, they said. Or, leave us alone, they said. Kris felt less sure the more she looked. "I'm... going to inventory what we have. If you have any stashes of ammo, fuel, rats, let me know."

Dai was at the door before Kris was. She didn't technically block the door, but she didn't stand aside either. Bull's eyes didn't leave a sheaf of newspaper when Dai asked, "is that all?"

Kris bit her lip, hand on the doorknob. "No. But that's what I need from you two for now."

"Aight." Dai squeezed past, down the hall and out of sight. Kris took off at a jog after her, but slowed after just a few moments.

Scouring their supplies hadn't taken long, it accounted maybe to a hundred-fifty shells and ten thousand rounds of 7.92mm. Maybe a three-quarter load for every tank, which in training terms meant... well, nothing. Their stores of grenades, tank batteries and packages of crackers were formidable, but trying to find spare periscopes or machine guns had nearly gotten her into a fistfight at the quartermaster's. The strangest thing to Kris was that nobody seemed to mind - the base was for all intents and purposes asleep until the next influx of supplies or manpower.

For now, inspecting the ammo dump seemed good. Again. Kris nodded to nobody in particular, oriented herself in the direction of the ammunition dump and nearly ran right into a blue-clad militiawoman. Shuffling around, Kris muttered a "sorry" and pressed past.

"Hey! Do you have a moment?

"Yeah?" Kris said, not waist-deep in supplies but standing in the militia base once more. She saw red - a red headdress, maybe more of a bandana was a firepoker for her thoughts. She hadn't seen anything but drab blue and gray for what felt like months now. The half-dead gaze she wore made the other stumble over her words, though the stranger trooped on through the awkward no-man's land and went straight to introductions.

"Sergeant Alicia Melchiott, nice to meet you!" Her pigtails bobbed as she offered her hand. Hazel-eyed and bushy tailed. It seemed she had waltzed through the opening stages of the war without a scratch on her. "I saw you were poking through the supplies earlier - busy busy! Don't suppose you could help me find some things...?"

"Sergeant Massis," Kris answered as she dug down for old, civilian habits. "-The, uh, pleasure is mine. Call me Kris. And sure, though I just got here. Not sure where everything is stashed yet." She winced, preparing herself for a dressing at the hands of another NCO. Her stomach growled. Something in the air made her want to hide in the mess hall.

"Really?" Alicia said, eyes slightly widened. "We were just mobilized a few weeks ago and we've barely settled in here. How about you? You don't look like a draftee to me. Oh! You're limping a little, are you hurt?"

"Well, I..." It was like Kris's deficiency interested her more than it disappointed Alicia. The hardest thing to wrap her head around, though, was the fact that someone was asking about her. Not the ammo, the uniform, why the lieutenant was an asshole... Just Kris. "Yeah. It's okay though."

"You sure?"

"Nah, I'm good," Kris said. She held the door for the other sergeant as they marched into the quartermaster's place. The dim lighting helped her as she said, "Fine. Promise."

The bandana-wearing NCO had a frown, a lot like the one her mother wore when Kris tried to lie about homework. "You know-" she said, wagging a finger in front of Kris. "-A platoon sergeant has to deal with bad excuses every day, and I think you're lying, sergeant Kris Massis."

She snorted. Her cheeks were flushed, too, as Kris wrung out her hands. "Okay, okay. I'm - well, was regular army. Tank destroyers. They put me here to train some people and organize them, I guess. It's uh, pretty overwhelming. Got out of the infirmary not too long ago... I think my crew hates me, and my CO, he... you know when you know someone who is, well... 'effective' even though they're really really strange?"

Alicia shook her head, smiling a sort of smile with her eyes for a moment. "... Yes I do. I think I know exactly what you mean. Do you feel like their presence sticks around even when they're gone, too?"

Kris thought on it. It only took a second, the urge to peer over her shoulder for the glint of thick-rimmed glasses. "Yeah. Yeah, more or less. But now that you mention it - I've been meaning to ask you, what's that - that smell? Flour? Yeast?"

"Oh? It could be the smell of this morning's bread."

"Wait, you bake? Like, bake fresh bread?"

​

Kris dropped the armful of supplies into the bed of the truck. "-And that's why you ask for anti-zeppelin rounds if you want tracer belts. They're also pretty scary - the color is really something else at night!" It was amazing what some shopping on someone else's budget and a quick bite could do for someone's mood.

Sergeant Melchiott beamed as their combined catch, the bed of the truckpiled high with the usual tools for mayhem. "You're pretty knowledgeable, you know that? I think we're lucky you're not on the other side!"

"Ah. Thanks?" Kris said, hiding behind another crate. "So!... Grenades, bread - mmm, nine-milimeter, tools, heavyweight motor oil, hydraulic fluid. A little extra in exchange for some boxes of rations and a few batteries. Are you sure you don't need the helmets, though?"

"No worries! Our guys and gals don't like to wear too much armor; they say it slows them down. Though helmets to protect from shrapnel would probably be a good idea. It seems to work well for the Imperials!"

Kris thought back to lobbing HE shells and finding fist-sized holes in Imperial armor. It wouldn't have made for good conversation, so she quietly stowed the thought. "Probably. You said the rest is at the second tank hangar?"

"Yeah! Shall we?" Alicia climbed in and Kris feathered the gas as she turned the ignition. They were more or less like the trucks her mom sometimes had for business with the clutch travel that seemed to go for miles, but Kris felt the pedal almost disappear underfoot. A tank wouldn't even have had the thrust bearings engaged with that little force. They pulled away from the dump and crossed the parade ground, heading for the same motorpool with the motor-mouth privates she'd met before.

"... Ten o'clock, three hundred meters. What the heck is that?"

Her mind registered that a vehicle with a cannon, turret and tracks was more than likely a tank, or sometimes a tank destroyer if you were cool enough. This was more than cool - it was just right. Their little pyramid shaped tank hulls bucked under the recoil of short-barreled 75mm cannons mashed into too-small turrets. This one - had to be twice the size, maybe three or four times the weight of a Type 34!

The rounded turret was actually proportional to the low-slung body, and in some places it looked to wear armor twice as thick as the hull did. With little exposed sponson or side hull behind the tracks, the neatly-laid road wheels and the skirts, it was almost as if this tank lacked weak spots at all. Their tanks had flat spots and vision slots for shells to blow through, but this tank had a slab of flawless, smooth frontal armor, a gun mount that seemed twice as thick as the turret cheeks. The turret along would have crushed one of their tanks beneath it, and it had the sort of long-barreled gun normally reserved for an anti-air battery or an artillery unit. Okay, maybe not howitzer league, but the gun had to be longer than the entire hull on one of their tanks...

It was also a rather pretty shade of blue, Kris noticed. "Where can I get one? Do you know who sells those?" Alicia didn't share her excitement, but she did smile.

Alicia nodded in response to her babbling with a smile. "Oh, Edelweiss? You should talk to Isara about that, though-" Alicia paused, holding in a laugh. "I'm not sure she's keen on parting with it anytime soon..."

"It's worth a try!" Kris halted them besides the motorpool entrance, killing the engine, throwing on the parking brake in a hurry and vaulting over the side. She didn't even feel the usual pinch in her gut as she took off for it at a dead run. The first thing she noticed was even more blue.

Blue shawls, blue hair. Dai was having a rapid-fire conversation till she was almost blue in a face. Her uniform was decorated with blackened motor oil, while her friend's off-white shawl was the only part of her that had avoided a light dusting with automotive compounds. Like the rest of the track-heads, her knee-length boots lacked laces, though the skirt-and-leggings getup that the militia favored was present. Her hair was bit shorter than either of them, in a neat bud-like cut that leveled off just below her ears. As she nodded, smiled and tried to keep up with Dai, the smaller girl moved about their dissected tank's engine bay with an almost mechanical ease.

She turned on her heel and nodded to Kris. "Oh, hello there. Are you looking for something?"

After the heavy metal buzz started to wear off, Kris felt something of a pang in her. Melchiott's squad had to have everything in their favor. Kris knew it wasn't fair to peg someone as clever or smart from first impressions, but as soon as this girl - Isara, was it? As soon as Isara begun to speak, Kris imagined her giving a lecture at Lanseal, upstanding the professors with her measured explications and... "Hi, uh - no, just came here with sergeant Melchiott. We found some supplies, just scavenging a bit. Though it's nice you're getting along with the private there."

"She's been very kind to me. Thank you. May I ask what you're scavenging for?"

"I'm preetty sure we don't use the same ammunition in our vehicles, but Alicia said you might have some tools and spares? I'll help you with maintenance if you want. Is it really just you in that... monster? Track maintenance has to suck, though then again those tracks look a lot more durable than the ones we have, probably trap less gunk without skirts going down so far on the side, and the pins look just tough you know? Oh and, do you have any spare machine guns?" By the time she had reeled it in, Kris had most of the hangar crew looking in her direction. All different faces than before.

Kris was approached by a quartet of tankers, all blue-haired men in worn-out uniforms carrying tools. One of them chewed on the end of a cigar and wiped grease off a mapcase hung around their neck. He was clean-shaven, with the same same blue-gray eyes as the others. She saw his knuckles were all split and healed over, with thick callouses on the pads of his fingers. His squared-off chin and narrow cheeks were completely untouched; she imagined him either being extremely clumsy or extremely good at giving a beating. "Machine gun? That's pretty strange, sergeant Massis. Private Dai just gave us a spare. Is something going on here?"

Mom had always said "No such thing as a good day until it's over." Even then, it had caught her a bit off guard, Kris had to admit. Things had been going so well! Now... she wasn't sure it if was right to curl up and bawl, or to quietly move off to another crew. Still, squeezing her feelings on the issue like a fist in her chest, Kris kept her voice firm. Mostly. "Dai. Is that true?"

The private had broken down out a cold sweat with wide eyes and clenched fists at her sides. She gave a half-shake, then a nod, then looked away entirely. Kris couldn't even find it gratifying. "Can I please just have it back?"

"I don't believe so, Sergeant Massis. That's our bribe for taking point next mission from what Dai said."

"We'll take point. Can we have it back?"

"I don't think so," he said, serene as could be. "Fastest gun in the company. Would rather not risk the platoon having the unproven platoon sergeant running point, you get me? Nothing personal."

Kris felt her cheeks burning as her eyes darted to his collar. "Sergeant, what's your name?"

"Milo."

Okay. Kris held onto her tongue and shifted her feet, setting her shoulders straight. She looked him in the eye, but her boot scuffing the floor felt more like preparation for running away than standing her ground. "Sergeant Milo, I'll take you in a mad minute for the gun. Ten rounds on the target range. I'll set the pace."

The gathered crew, save Isara gave a collective snort and the murmurs of laughter before settling. Milo stayed impassive, though his bearing had changed almost imperceptibly in that moment. "With all due respect Sergeant Massis, you do only get one first impression."

Kris didn't look away as she said, "And you didn't answer my question."

"Sure, sure. I'm game. Your loss."

It was typical tanker posturing. Side-by-side, lobbing rounds from a stationary position as fast as loaders could keep the shells flying. She'd thrown bigger shells in more cramped tanks against bigger assholes.

Alicia leapt between the two before a circle of tankers could fully form. "Hey! I didn't bring you here to administer a fight, you know." It took the mat out from under the argument, though Kris was left with the frustration in her chest like a lit match.

No problem. She managed to nod, turn and troop away. The two crews separated at the middle of the hangar, Kris's boots stomping over to Calamity. Dai followed behind with two left feet, eyes bolted to the floor. Bull was already mounting the turret, sliding open the hatch when Kris's heels clicked together. "Get off the tank, corporal. Dai is gunning."

"You sure 'bout that sar'nt?"Kris felt her fists ball up at her sides until they shook like they were going to fall right off. "As sure as I am about anythng stuck here with this busted-up militia unit that's gonna give away machine guns for fun, corporal? Can you get out of my way?"
Kris could almost hear Dai wilt behind her, rooted there as Bull shook his head and slid down the tank front, sliding into the driver's spot one leg after the other. The clang of the hatch was heavy in the air as she hooked her boot into the tracks.

Why? Why did things go downhill so fast? Kris had a sliver of Dai to study and trying to wrap her head around even that- "Dai, why are you even here? Do you hate the military? Do you want out?"

The private was still on the hangar floor. Even with how she shook, there wasn't a waver in her voice when she said, "No. Absolutely not." She looked a lot like a kid in front of a class explaining themselves to the teacher. Kris couldn't think of the comparison without wincing. Trying to explain with just a few words that - I don't have much. I don't have much but I'm trying desperately to hang onto it.

Except, well... Dai was probably handling those feelings better than Kris had. In a war. "Do you like the military?" Kris said, not expecting a response, at least not at first. So she lingered on the hatch rim for a moment even as the tank down the row started up. "I can tell you I do. I think it's given me a lot more than I had, and a lot more freedom even with - well, chain of command. Rules. Court martials. You understand that at all?"

"Yep."

"Well, it's a nice thought that the military is going to be here for me, since I'm going to be ruined in a few minutes as a platoon sergeant. So you might as well stop lingering here, private. I want it over with." Kris kept chipping at the private with small talk. She didn't know where it came from in her, but it seemed to thaw out the other tanker. Dai scaled the side of the tank as the engine snorted and coughed, coming to life with a puff of bright blue dust.

Dai hung onto the roof, half-way slid into the gunner's seat. "Sergeant - why me? I don't gun."

"You wouldn't give a shit if you fired early and clipped my fingers off. That's all," Kris said. It took a moment to realize how easily the words had come, and as she fell into the commander's seat and the vehicle lurched, it seemed there was an eternity to mull things over.

"Bull, number two firing range. With the hills." When the headset squawked beside her, Kris shoved the helmet down onto her head and switched the handset to "radio." She looked through her right-hand vision block and saw the ragnoline blue glow a short distance away, the other tank idling in the grass. Theirs too came to a halt. "Left stick and give me some gas, Bull."

"Wilco sar'nt," he said, and their tank rotated until there was clear dirt in their sights.

"Ready when you are, Sergeant Massis."​

Her fingers hovered over the transmit switch. Kris placed it down beside her, and hands slipping through the interior, unclasped the rounds from the wall, stacking them on the floor one-by-one. "You fire as soon as the breech slams shut. Understood?"

Dai sighed. "Roger."

"Bull."

"Sar'nt," he said, turning in his seat with with barely-suppressed consternation.

"The longer we wait, the more accurate we get you know."​

Kris snorted. "You hit the clutch when we fire, too."

"... clutch, sar'nt?"

Kris plucked up the handset. "Sergeant Milo, I hear you. How are you doing?" she said, already breathless as she hugged the shell to her chest, knee set against the bulkhead.

"Quite fine. I like an easy victory. Though, I do have to ask why you chose such a cratered firing range, Sergeant Massis. "​

It wasn't technically lying. It was mean-spirited. Then again, that was how the day had been to her. Still, there wasn't a hint of malice in her voice. "Because we're doing this accelerating at top speed, Sergeant Milo or it's completely forfeit in my eyes. Bull, hit it."

Milo said something, but their engine was revving too hard for her to hear. The clutch bit as the breech slammed closed, Kris careening across the space with hands outstretched to tear up the next round. "FIRE!" The other tank's shot broke just a heartbeat later. They were flying along, propelled only by the primal urge to win. Even then everything shook and creaked and tried to eat her limbs.

Shitty couldn't begin to describe the situation. Kris growled as she punched the next round into the gun. She thought of punching that corporal that took her money. Maybe the lieutenant. Maybe everyone with a militia badge. With every bone-rattling leap and shake Kris could feel the heat in her chest sucked right out. When the third round fired with the casing banging to floor behind Dai, the viewports remained dim for a full second before the other tank barked.

When their round count hit six, the tank on their flankhad to veer left not to crush a wooden barrier, gun careening right. She could almost see the tankers inside trying not to drop high-explosive rounds on their noses. She couldn't see anything in their own tank with smoke pumping from the breech and shells piled high. It didn't matter when her hands found the breech with the same boring precision Terra put into her gunnery. With every shell her gunner fired a moment sooner, a moment sooner.

As Kris had finally gotten warmed up, her hands came up empty and Bull was leaning on the brakes. The silence on the radio could have only been the song of sweet, sweet victory, interrupted by the clap of the last two rounds from the other tank. "Well then."

"Sar'nt?"

"Sergeant?"

"That's some good work. A lot of hassle for a single machine gun, sure."

Dai squirmed in the gunner's bucket. "Yes sergeant."

Kris rubbed at her arms as the soreness sunk in. She had to blink away the tears as the fumes finally cleared. "That's grounds for discharge in the army. Maybe a lot worse. Y'know that?" The stirring in the tank could have only been the meeting of gazes between Dai and Bull.

"...yes sergeant."

Kris stared out the vision blocks as they slowly wheeled around, mute to the going-ons of the crowd at the hangar and the other tank. Her old wounds were aching. The knot in her stomach wouldn't leave. It got easier, though. It wasn't like the frustration in her that took effort to maintain after so long. "I don't care about that. I've never sent someone to a firing squad. You're never going to make me do that, even if you're trying to be the biggest... pain in the ass problem for me.

She didn't know what faces they made in the dark. She didn't hear them tear off their headsets, either. "I don't understand why you'd throw things away to spite someone you barely know enough to underestimate. I'm not here to replace your friend. I'm not here to be a better NCO, because a better NCO would have you doing pushups and solitary confinement right now. Just... fuck that. I'm here to do my job.

"A machine gun going missing isn't going to stop me, or a stupid bet, or losing face. Those guys out there will see what I am when I do my best every single day. But when you - when you don't trust me to do my job, I can't trust you - and that's the showstopper. And there's no point in being in a steel coffin filled with high explosives and fuel with some strangers to go die. Especially when..." Kris wiped at her eyes and shoved the hatch wider. "... especially when I got the fucking order to move out first thing tomorrow morning."

Kris shook her fist at the sky looking for someone to blame. Nothing answered, and even the idle rumble of the motor had fallen an octave in the blanket of silence that followed. They sat there, the only sound being the rustling of a thumb against a transmit switch, a cough in the hull.

"That's why I'm strung out. That is why I'm here. That is going to kill us if we keep fucking around. I'm not going to punish you because all this - this has been enough punishment over nothing. I'll let you in on a secret - I'm not going to die in a tank. You're not going to die in my tank. That's all."

She wasn't sure how long they sat after that, or how many almost-words died on their lips. When they were almost back, Bull piped up over the intercom. "Mess's been a brewin' disaster after that convoy done got lost. Filin' down molars with all that hard-tack garbage."

Dai stirred from her trance-like rest at the gunner's seat and nodded. "Yeah."

Kris didn't realize she was privy to the conversation till both looked over at her. "Ah. Yeah. Pretty bad."

"Mhm," Dai said.

When they rolled back to the hangar, the remains of a scowl were muddled on Sergeant Milo's face and the glean of sweat was dry. They didn't say a word further as Kris put her boot on the track of their tank, scaled the side and pulled the retaining pin from the machine-gun on the hatch. Kris took it in her arms and climbed back down.

She knew it was heavier than the shells she'd thrown, but the Erma didn't weigh anything at all. The air was heavier than the gun, even though Dai and Bull were diligently in tow she wasn't sure anything had changed at all. Maybe just the volume.

Alicia was a few steps from Isara and when Kris approached, she wore the a tinge of admiration mixed with confusion. That look someone wore when they were trying not to look too disappointed. Kris had gotten used to that - but she was trying. That had to count for something. "Hey," Kris said.

"Do you feel any better?" Alicia asked.

Kris tried to hold the corners of her mouth up against gravity. She did manage, at least until a sigh escaped. "A little bit."

Sergeant Melchiott took her arm. When Kris shrugged away and scaled the tank once more, she frowned. "I'm saying that because you look better. Don't get all pouty with me, you hear? And put that down already!"

"Oh," Kris said. She let the gun drop into it's new home atop Calamity with a clang and hopped off. "I... do?"

"Something about how you and your friends are acting now. You're not so distant or staring at each other behind each other's backs, right?"

It put a perk in her step. Kris really wanted to believe it, but she gave a little shake of her head. Her lips twitched, almost sore from how long she'd worn a grimace. She fell in beside the other sergeant. "I think it's too soon to say. I hope so."

"See? You know how to smile. If there's anything I could do for you, let me know!"

"... actually. I don't want to ask for too much, but um... if you want helpers in the sevens mess for a little bit for baking things and... maybe?"

Alicia's expression wasn't as severe as Kris had expected, though she could almost feel how her generosity grew a little thin at the request. "Hmmm... I could be convinced. Say - only if you bring your friends and play nice. How about that?"

"Deal." When Kris broke the news to Dai and Bull, their slack-jawed amazement made her giddier than she'd been in weeks.

​
 
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I like it. I mean, to be fair, Kris was nicer than I would've been personally, but she handled that well. I think you hit all the right notes with how she dealt with Dai and Bull, and kept her in character the whole time too. Well done.

That said I can't help but wonder how the rest of the unit's going to react. While Kris has some talent the fact that shit isn't going to rain down on Dai for this is gonna make some waves with those who take a more liberal interpretation of command and those who go hardline by the book. The fact that Dai went over Kris's head and that Kris had to come and rather spectacularly get her damn gun back isn't going to be lost on anyone who hears the story, so I wonder how it's going to color the opinions of her.

Alls well that ends well though, right? Still, really good chapter. Can't wait to see more.
 
Hi all. Got some feedback from @HatsuZ and @Dragontrapper about context chapter to chapter.

I did think it was a problem telling where things were and what timeframe things happened in, and I'm not sure I want to use timestamps. I did edit almost all the chapters, particularly the first one to have a bit more expository information and context about where things are. Lemme know what you think.
 
Sushi said:
Hi all. Got some feedback from @HatsuZ and @Dragontrapper about context chapter to chapter.

I did think it was a problem telling where things were and what timeframe things happened in, and I'm not sure I want to use timestamps. I did edit almost all the chapters, particularly the first one to have a bit more expository information and context about where things are. Lemme know what you think.
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ahaha caught up!

...I would recommend against the use of timestamps. What you would want to do is work reminders for the reader of what the scene looks like or how time has passed since other events into the story where they make sense to occur. Also has I've never played VC some extra context on what the tanks are like would be nice, if their the type where the TC as to load and command or whatever bring that up as you describe how tight the turret is as you get in it, etc.
 
Heavy Mettle

​
_____Mom had said Vasel was literally a city divided. Vasel City sat on Vasel River, which stemmed from the great lake by the capital. Instead of being right by Randgriz, the bridge had ended up almost a hundred kilometers to the northwest, where the river started to taper toward the coast to the west. As Calamity rolled down the road, Kris thought of the many hours that Vasel had added to cross-country road trips. Awkward couldn't begin to describe the placement of the bridge.

_____Good thing was: the Imperials had the same problem. It was one of very few bridges that could handle heavy Imperial tanks. Even before the war started, Vasel had been the center of tactics lectures at Lanseal—and presumably the same for the Imperials. Kris had even read once that the drawbridge regularly closed for a day at a time for military drills, meaning the Vasel residents had largely grown into independent communities on the western, "Randgriz side" and the eastern side.

_____When the sun started to yawn upwards along the horizon, the first thing they saw was the great bridge on the horizon and the shapes of buildings. Kris saw where the ground went abruptly flat just short of the bridge proper, like someone had taken a scoop out of each side with a spoon and sanded it smooth. Artillery thundered in the distance.

_____High-explosives flashed and made the earth vomit skywards. Even though they were well out of range it still felt like someone had given her a sharp slap on the sternum. Kris ran her fingertips down one of the seventy-five rounds tucked around the turret ring for the dozenth time that day. They said even a slight imperfection could keep the brass case from seating into a gun—or result in much, much worse if it did go home and fired. There was a seat with thin leather padding to sit on, but even then she'd been standing for long enough to feel the ache of "tanker's legs." With the gun taking up most of the right side, Bull had to sit directly up against the gun sight, leaning against a leather chest-stop with the coax belt just inches from his nose. "You okay there," Kris said. "Bull?"

_____The corporal made of show of trying to twist in his seat, traversing over thirty degrees until his left shoulder met the bulkhead with a thump. "...serviceable, sar'nt," he grunted. It wasn't even spacious for his head, where the leather brow pad shoved up his blond hair like errant weeds in the tank. He'd reach up and try to smother them back down like the mess was an affront to his uniform. The mere presence of his right arm was enough to make the stamped steel recoil guard creak.

_____Bull's a pretty literal nickname, isn't it? she thought, lips twitching into a frown. "You sure?" Her cheeks flushed. She probably sounded like a fool even asking when they were inside a tank.

_____Bull, for his part waited just long enough to seem thoughtful before saying, "Yep."

_____"Sure," Kris said. That wasn't exactly what she thought, but then again you ran out of personal space in a tank very quickly. Behind her, radio switches and dials took up the bustle rack with more ammunition sitting below. Somewhere down past where the turret basket ended, more milk-white tank hull showed under their electric lights. Dai was up front with the most room in the tank. Kris smiled, thinking of when she'd fall asleep with the seatrest cranked back, her legs stretched out in the spacious hull front. The transmission bell made it nice and warm, too...

_____A metal groan rung in the air. Then the entire tank lurched and threw Kris from her daydreams. "Argh! Jeeze, are you actually asleep up there?" The private had shoved it into fifth gear, the smell of the burning clutch permeating the compartment though the open hatches. As Kris caught her heart in her hands and sidled back up to the hatch, she thought of their ride over. She'd sat behind the blue-haired girl to watch her drive. It had struck Kris that the private was Bull's polar opposite. Not just her waifish frame and violinist's fingertips, but the way Dai wore her feelings on her face when Bull preferred not to draw attention, or even the way they worked.

_____Dai was pixy-like, almost thin to the pointof being gaunt. Her lips were usually set in a thin line, brow taut as she had a staring contest with the road. Every time she'd fumble a shift the lines on her face would deepen for a few moments and she would look a little bit angry at the entire world, and a little bit more weary at the drive. Bull breezed through handing rounds, closing the thick steel hatches and twisting traverse handles. Dai used two hands to pull one of the driver's steering levers. Steering a tank was like a day of push-ups.

_____As Kris's thumb hovered over the microphone switch, Dai broke the silence first. There was a long second of static as she hit the transmit switch draped across her chest. "I heard an army unit in black uniforms got fucked trying to hold the east side against Imp tanks. Stupid."

_____Kris's thumb inched forward and froze mid-air. Black uniforms? One like hers, or one more like the lieutenant she'd run into on the base? At least Dai talking to her was start, as badly she needed a lecture on how to work the clutch pedal. The tanker sergeant thumbed her handset. "Oh, really. Were they infantry?"

_____"Supposedly," Dai yawned.

_____Kris wondered if her reply had disappointed. There was a flicker of resentment in her, with just another group of people to worry about. "Then I have no idea. That's not my people," Kris said. She found herself relating to lieutenant Irving then, that consternation he wore just seeing the world go about around him. Him and his black-uniformed soldiers were just the sort of thing she could use to break the ice, but when the silence drew past a dozen seconds, her desire to socialize wilted. She fell back against the cupola with a sigh. Like they'd care.

_____Half their job was keeping busy, lest they remember they were the first tank in the convoy. The platoon's march was either lethal or horribly lonely. The lieutenant's tank seemed much farther behind than the one-hundred meter interval. It wasn't long after their conversation died that Dirk's voice probed her headset.

"Stop, Massis. I want a briefing behind this ridgeline."​
_____"Wilco el-tee," Kris said, twisting around in the turret. With the turret bustle comprising most of her view, seeing where the back of the tank wasn't the easiest of things. "Driver—reverse, back behind the hilltop-" The tank lurched with an awful howl of metal-on-metal that bounced Kris against the cupola rim. "OW! Damn it— Dai, clutch please?"

_____"... kay."

_____"LT wants a field brief. I'll be right back." Kris looked down into the tank, where most of her view was taken up by Bull's shoulders and the gunner's seat. Why was she worried? Were they going to burst into flames right then and there? Probably not. She couldn't shake the feeling their name was far too appropriate for the situation and the lieutenant - maybe he just really liked snipers. Kris threw her legs over the side and hopped down from the skirt. She nearly fell onto her face as her calves tried to cave on her like rotten fruit. "Argh!"

_____Kris came up level with Dai's open hatch. Even though she was sitting, Dai seemed to look down at the sergeant and mouth something lost behind the hatch rim. She looked even slighter with the bulk of the tank around her like an oversized picture-frame. Even though her goggles had a layer of dust, her frustration bored into Kris like a surgeon's blade.

_____On the bright side, it hadn't started to rain and there wasn't any mud in her boots yet. Kris scampered to her feet as the other TCs meandered over. "Good morning, sir," Kris said. They didn't salute in the field, after all. She saw patches of blue-white where rank insignia had been stripped from Dirk's uniform. The tank commanders gathered in a close circle and seemed to shield the map from prying eyes with their bodies. It was brisk enough that a fog had formed on Dirk's glasses. He dabbed at it with a spotless white handkerchief before looking to each of them in turn. "HQ wants to relocate the heavy artillery around Vasel to secondary positions. We're going in to smash the Imperial forward teams and hold until they can complete the evacuation. We'll help relieve First Squad, Third Militia Regiment and plug gaps in the perimeter."

_____Dirk ran his finger along the main road into town. It was shaped like a figure-eight, with the bridge connecting it in the center. Kris didn't know if it served as a good reference any more - with all the artillery coming down, she wasn't sure their tanks could even pass. "Aster One-Two and One-Four are to take the main road and connect with the militia ground-pounders. One-Three and One-Five will circle in from the northern side and cover the regiment's field HQ. I will attach to either maneuver element as necessary. HQ advises us to expect dug-in infantry and light vehicles. Any questions?"

_____Milo wore a grin pulled crooked by equal parts smugness and apprehension. The other two... As they nodded, Kris was reminded that their uniforms desperately needed name labels. Back in their old unit, in a proper unit everyone knew each other's crews. Was Kris the only one who felt disconnected from the platoon?

_____"Massis, anything you would like to add?"

_____"Sir," she said reflexively. Would they listen to her? With how much trouble her crew had already been... Kris's stomach worked itself into a knot just looking at them. They were asking to get plastered with anti-tank lances and ragnoline cocktails, let alone hidden tanks and... "I... are any of those guns available to us for tasking?"

_____"Negative, Sergeant. We're here to help evacuate the town, not demolish it. Was that unclear?"

_____Kris felt the flush on her cheeks as she stood at attention. "No, sir. I just don't think the Imperials have the same concerns as they shell us. A contingency never hurts-"

_____Dirk silenced her with an upheld hand. "Sergeant. Need I remind you we have more combined firepower than an entire company of infantry? If we follow your suggestion, and say- level what is left of Vasel, headquarters won't be keen to support us like a good little unit." While he didn't jab a finger at her or raise his voice, Kris was left feeling like she'd been patted on the head. "I want you to scrub those Imperials right off the street. Now, mount up and get rolling."

_____"Sir!" They went to their idling tanks save for Milo, who lingered to flash her a thumbs-up.

_____"You know they say cowardice is natural in combat..." Kris turned with her cheeks afire, but Milo had already hightailed it for Thunderchild. She marched over to her tank and hooked a boot into the wheels, pulling up along the side and swinging into the turret. What kind of asshole flashed a thumbs-up after that?

_____Her knee slammed into Bull's wide back as she tried to catch herself. "Oof," he grumbled. "I do somethin' to irritate you, sarge...?"

_____"No, sorry, just-" The sergeant found the heat in her rising with her sputtering, the tell-tale snicker from the front of the hull. Why was she apologizing to the corporal? "Look—we're moving in by the main road. Keep your eyes open and that seventy-five pointed to the right."

_____He looked over his shoulder - or tried to, wedged between the sight and her knees. All that Kris saw was the flicker of irritation in those sky blue eyes as he shook his head. He looked like a scolded school-boy. "Sure thing, sar'nt. Why do you reckon it just has to be the right?"

_____"My hatch is on the left side, so I can see more if you turn that way."

_____"Oh. Roger." Bull twisted the magic handle and the turret flooded with the hydraulic whine. Kris grabbed onto their rightfully earned Erma and twisted it left at the same time, till cannon and MG were each pointing over one corner of the front. When she put her foot on the seat and stood to look back - Thunderchild was slowly cranking over to point the gun left.

"Bastion to all callsigns. One-Three, One-Five, on me. Hard left, don't run over those bodies. Don't want Graves Registration on my back because of that nonsense. The rest of you, stay on the main road. I want a report every mike."​
_____They moved in an inverted wedge, two tanks leading with the lieutenant just behind and between. The belch of coax fire pierced the air before the rumble of engines was all that could be heard across the field.

_____"The rest of you?" Kris felt the pit in her stomach deepen. She sunk lower in the hatch with her gloved fist clenched around the Erma's pistol grip. Her nose was almost touching the glass, with just her eyes poking over. Their marching pace came to a crawl on the main road as they moved within hand-grenade range of the first buildings."Dai, is your hatch closed?"

_____"Uh, why? Not yet, it's stuffy as hell in here."

_____"Do you like bullet weather?" Kris hissed. She heard the slam of metal on metal a second later.

_____Vasel was burning. Some parts more than others. Her eyes scanned from west to east- and the closer she got to the bridge, the thicker the smog got, until just a few buildings were visible at the top like needles. Rifles snarled, punctuated by the clap of detonating grenades. As they wheeled down the main road, a kilometer out from the edge of town it seemed the fights were in the next street over—the aisle was completely deserted.

_____Her heart leapt into her throat. One Gallian tank sat completely intact a stone's toss from where the town started. When Kris followed the turret and barrel, she found a rust-red Imperial tank, decapitated and spewing fire at the next intersection. Oh, shit. "Dai, slow us down. Put it into third-"

_____One time, mom had let her go up the stairs in the Yggdist cathedral. It took forever, but when she got up, huffing and puffing she leaned out from one of the towers. From the western tower through a very specific window, Kris could see everything around the town- the trees, the grass, the dots of people below. It had a perfect view of the entryway to Vasel.

_____Dai let the clutch out early and Calamity lurched. A flash lit up the roof like someone had struck a flint along the hatch. Kris jumped, snapped her arms back and fell. The sergeant squeezed her intercom handset even as she was in free-fall onto the turret basket. "BULL! Inthefuckingchapel— put an HE in the left spire! NOW!"

_____"On it-" They spun left, linked by their seats. The turret seemed to shake as the corporal's arm twisted the elevation wheel and tipped the entire gun upwards. He handled it with the same ease you would give a toy. She had an eternity to think as Bull maxed out the elevation. Think about being angry or even frightened. Her feelings were a knot too tight clenched to make out the fine details.

_____Kris only knew that she wanted the sniper dead. The only thing she felt was irritation that death seemed to take its time, lurching from the barrel on a puff of blue fire and lazing upward, outward. With the short windows in the cupola, she had to drop down in the turret and crane her neck upward to track the round. It broke across the steeple with another angry flash and the top vanished behind a cloud of debris and flame. "Hit. That's a hit."

_____"How the hell did you see him, sar'nt?"

_____"I... well, I went there as a kid once. It has a great view of Vasel and—well, it seemed a logical place to fire a rifle from. And now you blew it up. And uh, him." Part of her mourned the crumbling building more than whoever had been behind the rifle. Maybe it was a way to justify the idea- she'd fired HE into muzzle flashes in the woods enough times to be certain she'd killed before.

_____Dai's voice came at a harsh whisper. "Did you just fucking kill someone?"

_____"Maybe. But I'm pretty sure el-tee is gonna kill me after this."

_____Bull leaned back to rub at his eyes. Brow damp with sweat, back curved, for a moment he looked like a man twice his age to Kris. "S'pose I did do that. Hell of a thing." Calamity started to roll forward again and Kris crept back to her seat, not daring to lift her eyes above the hatch rim. See more or get shot... It was like looking through a ring-shaped formation of mail-boxes.

_____When her foot nudged something with a dull clang, Kris dipped down and pulled an HE round from the rack, shoving it home in the breech. "Gun ready. You see anything?" Kris chucked the empty out of the hatch, watching it glitter in the air before disappearing from the frames of her vision blocks.

_____Bull twisted his head and turned the turret around, but she knew he was aiming through a magnified pinhole. "Nothin."

_____"Sergeant, I can't see shit from up here either. Where the fuck is First Squad?"

_____Kris took up her handset and flicked the switch to RADIO. "Bastion, Calamity here. Made contact with enemy sharpshooter. We put an HE in him. Any contact with the militia? Over."

"Wait one, over."​
_____Kris felt the slam of a recoilless weapon firing, saw the smoke as it curled past their left side and impacted in a building. She traced the streamer of white right back to ground-level, where a meter-wide window was shored up with sandbags and bits of rock. Just like the classes at Lanseal said; once the Imps took a position, they dug in hard. "Gunner, there's AT in the cellar—left front, left front! Fifty meters. Dai, roll us back!"

_____"Back? Okay, shit, that I can do."

_____"Where? I can't see squat, sar'nt."

_____"There's no easy way to do this, is there?" Kris counted to three in her head, grasped the hatch rim and hoisted herself up. She slammed the Erma's charging handle and hoped Milo had taken care of the stupid thing- the barrel swung around to where shapes moved behind the smoke. The staccato of 7.92 cut through the air white-hot, kicking up pulverized cement and splintered lumber.

_____"See where I'm shooting? Right there, put an HE in it!"

_____"Roger that." Bull leaned forward and hit the trigger pedal. Kris didn't think the shell would arm, but she scampered back into the turret like a rat with stolen cheese. The flash of blue all around, in every viewport was followed by the slam of so much shrapnel into their armored box. Well then.

_____"Didn't do shit, sar'nt. Dai, can you kindly put a move on it? Think we're done here." Bull's grumbling was starting to strain as he pushed back against her seat. He was squirming away from the punch of the shell burst, hemmed in by metal that amplified it like a massive bell around his head.

_____Thunderchild finally started to rake a line of 7.92 up the road with its coax, a round sailing high and tearing a meter-wide hole in the masonry. Kris stacked a silver-nosed high-explosive round between her feet and rammed the heavy AP round home with a hiss. "Bull—stop, listen! Dai, I want you to halt. APC loaded, point-delay after. Hit the same spot and it'll blow right through."

_____Bull seemed so very far away now. "Ain't no way. I just saw that shell skip like a rock off a pond."

_____"You can do it. I know you can." Kris took her loader's tool and twisted the slot in the side of the round before hugging it in her arms. The moment Dai shoved in the clutch and they felt the momentum in the tank lapse, Bull tensed at the sights and slammed down his foot. Kris didn't see the fall of the round- didn't know if she was wrong, fatally wrong, but the next round slammed home a moment later with all the faith she could muster.

_____When she put her eyes back to the vision blocks, a fist-sized hole sat in the middle of the rubble with light showing from within. The tank lurched with a thunderclap and turned light into fire. The shell's burst ignited what ammunition the Imperials had stored underground and turned the room above inside-out in a fountain of acid-blue, and even under her helmet and the thick ear-cups her head was ringing like a bell. Bits of masonry fell in through the open hatch and pelted her back. She swore Calamity had tipped onto its side. "Hit. You got em."

_____Bull slowly shook his head and wiped off his hands on his pant legs. "This stuff... Ain't it a bit disturbing how easy it comes?"

_____"I still can't believe you just fucking killed someone. Milo maybe, but you, Bull?" Dai said rapid-fire, like a record turned too fast. Her words were punctuated by a stamp on the brakes that threw them all forward.

_____"Ain't no way."

_____"No comment." Kris didn't agree, or at least she thought she didn't, but there they were bringing down buildings on Imperials hand-in-hand. Point and shoot.

"Calamity, Bastion. No contact. What's the situation?"

"Thunderchild here, Calamity just smoked some Imps for us. Good shit, over."​
_____She was reaching for the handset when the sky started to groan under the weight of its new burden. Kris felt the air snap around them as the shell plunged into the cobblestone just across the road and turned the air into fire. Kris tore down on the hatches against the pressure of their springs. Bull clenched up, fired at something, and as the breech fell the interior filled with acrid white that now had nowhere to vent. The first incoming shells went off sounding like hundreds of bullets slamming home around them. Each round fell closer and pounded her ribs, rung her ears and threw them against steel bulkheads like so much meat. Artillery. Fucking artillery. Artillery murdered her thoughts. "—shit, Dai—GO!"

_____Dai muttered into her headset like she had been bludgeoned in the head. "...what?" The engine didn't rev, the tracks didn't move as the barrage thickened overhead. The only thing that raced was the pounding of Kris's heart.

_____Kris slid forward through the smoke-filled turret basket and shoved her boots forward. She caught Dai in the back with a stinging slap. A switch flicked in Dai's head as she hissed, her foot dropped and Calamity's engine burst to life. The buildings came at them faster and faster, craters and bodies disappearing behind as their partner tank unleashed a steady stream of tracers into every window they saw. As soon as the bursts of shells faded behind, Kris punched the hatch open, stuck her head out and sucked down precious air.

"Calamity, Bastion. Don't keep me waiting here sergeant."​
_____They careened around a bend and came across an anti-tank gun with four men in burnished steel armor straining to push it along. They turned, and even with visors on their faces Kris could feel the moment their jaws dropped. She clambered up, turned over the Erma almost close enough to throw a punch and held down the trigger. Calamity's momentum carried them past and turned the rounds into a scythe that trimmed metal and flesh into a pile of corpses.

_____When Thunderchild came in on their heels, they crushed the gun under their treads without missing a beat. She grit her teeth for the innevitable outburst of Milo's sadistic commentary over the radio, but instead the tank's gun swung over as a silent affirmation. Come to think of it—loading their gun wasn't a bad idea. Kris threw the next round of HE home and gave Bull a shove on the shoulder. He stayed glued to the sights with his hands white-knuckled on the controls.

_____They were scared to death. Kris thought that was normal. Kris wondered why she didn't feel anything that could be described as fear, just this gnawing anxiety building inside her. What if she lost the race to kill the Imperials? What then? She didn't know where they were in the city, just that the trail of bodies and wrecked buildings marked their wake like a forest fire. They were lost, in a wide plaza filled with stone planters and high buildings all around, probably filled to the brim with Imperials.

Left, right, left, Dai pulled them into a mad curving line around the planters. A red-brown wreckage of armored plate with Imperial marks loomed in the periscopes. Kris hooked her Dai's shoulder and pulled. Dai was shaking like a leaf. The gears in the private's head turned only slowly then, and their tank slewed to a stop too late to avoid smashing home with the pop of splitting track links. Kris felt her knees crack into Bull's seatrest as her body flattened against the hatch-rim. "Shit-"

_____Again, there was that incessant pang of bullets hitting metal, a thousand woodpeckers trying to burrow into her skull. Kris put her eyes to the vision slots and realized then and there—even if artillery shells couldn't penetrate her thick skull, some things in life did scare her. Not bullets smashing into slots inches from her eyeballs or the occasional lance exploding in the distance. Not the fact that they were in a three-sided ambush with their attackers in brick buildings.

_____Just things like Imperials in third-story windows throwing grenades at the hatch over her head. Every time she tried to close the hatch, bullets thickened overhead until her arms were forced to retreat. The life-saving piece of armored steel was made from two semi-circular halves. She had to reach both arms out and nearly her shoulders too, grasp the rims and pull inward like they were a cellar doors lying open flat against the ground. If she didn't take her time, Kris would lose fingers to the interlocking rims. If she lived through this, she was going to make a hatch that didn't require sticking her entire body out to close it.

_____"Bull, wake up already!" Kris clasped the angry red lever that they were taught to never use because a good gunner could find a target themselves. She twisted it right and spun them over, pointing the barrel of the 75mm like a massive shotgun. She punched the manual trigger on the cannon's side. As the shell hurtled through the air, Kris felt the fire, the pressure on her head lift enough to breathe. She could hear her own thoughts again. "I don't want to drag your ass out of this tank because you lost a fucking leg like your friend did!"

_____That sent a ripple through Bull. He let go of the fire control and shook out his hands, pulling at his gloves like he was about to start boxing with her in the tank. "Confound it! Listen here, sar'nt rookie, don't you say another damn word about Soren or I swear I'll-"

_____In the middle of a fucking battle? Maybe mom possessed her for a second, because Kris cocked her arm back and slapped Bull across the back of his head as hard as she could. "Can you please fucking SHOOT THEM?"

_____He hardly twitched as the thump resonated through the tank interior. "—sunnavabitch!"

_____"Gunner! Point delay, third story—second window from the left. Aim right for the wall below it." The grumbling, the cussing and screaming in the compartment was drowned out by the whine of the turret hydraulics. As Bull got the target in his sight and raised the barrel Kris could feel the incoming fire shrink for a moment. Good. "Hit em."

_____Calamity and Thunderchild fired nearly in unison. Their tracers nearly collided before tearing into the building and exploding within. Bull twisted over the gun on his own as Kris shoveled ammunition as fast as she could wrench open the clasps. The rooms had the glass and mortar blown out of them one-by-one, each tank sweeping a half of the building with every gun running. The ground-level doors broken open and bodies in dented steel armor poured forward.

_____Kris watched the blond gunner twist left first, raking coax across bodies and launching HE as soon as she'd rammed the round home. Every time he hit the trigger the Imps would scatter behind cars in the street, into ditches and craters like so many ants. Kris couldn't see anything lower than a meter tall, but then again- that wasn't a big deal. She had training for this. "Easy, easy— twenty round bursts. I'll load a point-delay. Aim thirty in front of their feet, it'll skip right over their heads."

_____"On it sar'nt." Bull grunted, twisted and spun the handle hard enough to slam his arm into the bulkheads. He barely waited to hear the slam of the breech before firing. When the round kicked up to head-height and exploded, his head bobbed sharply in the sight. "Damn right. Bull ducked, squeezing one arm down toward the floor even as his body struggled to turn in the space. "Coax stopped, got another belt sar'nt?"

_____"Yeah, two seconds!" It wasn't a human wave- not technically. The Imps were too smart for that, sticking in cover until the guns swung away from them. They hadn't budged a foot since leaving the building, but they had the tanks buttoned up tight and Calamity wasn't moving anytime soon. Kris shook off the thought and unlatched the can. He uttered a thanks to her and squeezed back into the seat. For punching him in the head?

_____Around that time, even with the pounding of artillery that settled on her like a thick layer of dirt, Kris felt her skin tingle. She turned in her seat and wrenched her eyes upward. Kris sighed. "There's someone on the turret."

_____"Sar'nt?"

_____"You're shitting me!"

_____The Erma started to rattle above their heads. A blue sleeve waved down into the hatch, then a grinning Gallian with lieutenant's pips on his shoulders. Compared to their smoked-out uniforms he was spotless—and well-rested by the sound of it. "Hey! You all alive in there? You stopped firing!"

_____"We're good," Kris said. She wondered how flat her tone had been when she saw a flicker of apology in the Gallian's brown eyes. The lieutenant looked pretty sharp for someone she had been moments from shooting in the head, actually. Plus, hazel eyesworked with chestnut hair pretty well when you weren't a screaming Imperial with hand grenades. How the hell do you keep your hair styled when you're dodging artillery?

_____Another long burst from the Erma cut into her thoughts."Aha—fantastic! Ramal, take the assault team left, those planters are going to be excellent cover for a flanking manuever. Tanker, can you keep their heads down?"

Kris swelteredd, groaned, and stretched her sore limbs. Then Kris snickered. Her arms were burning and shells were still raining, but the request was like asking her to draw in breath. "Oh yeah. Sure thing. Bull, the nice lieutenant said to keep shooting them." Kris punched another HE home and took up her handset. "Bastion, Calamity here. We've linked up with militia units in west Vasel."

"Calamity, Bastion here. Where the hell have you been? You've been AWOL for the last five minutes."​
_____It was just like Dirk to wait on her, but five minutes? It had felt like hours. Kris was ready to sleep for days, and as the militia advanced slinging grenades into Imperial positions and rounding up prisoners, even the racks of ammo looked like a good place to rest her head. "I had a situation, sir. They dug into a brick building—probably a school? And they lit us up. We had to demolish most of it. At least two platoons plus AT. Buut, on the flip side, we didn't have to use howitzers?" She heard the lieutenant's groan over the wireless like they were face-to-face.

"Sergeant, you will find the ranking officer there, interrogate him about the location of field headquarters and meet me immediately. Do. You. Understand?"​
_____"Sir, my track is out and we're taking dismounts under fire. I'll attempt to link up when possible," Kris said. Her fingers were about to tear her radio cord from its jack, but she waited for a last word. The total silence that followed was even better. The militia's fire was starting to fade, and even though rounds fell on the town with abandon, everything seemed quiet in their part of Vasel.

_____Bull folded down his seat and slumped to the turret floor as Dai crawled back from her driver's hole. Kris looked to them, hanging in the turret basket like so many limp noodles in blue uniforms. Bull fidgeted with his lighter before looking to her. "We did real crummy out there, didn't we? Running from those Imps?"

_____Dai shook out a smoke from her pack and rolled it in her fingers. "Fuck yeah we did. Sergeant's already planning on sending us to a new crew I bet where we won't stink up the whole fuckin' regiment."

_____They looked more like tired puppies to her than Gallian militia. Kris knew she probably didn't look any better, but- they were looking to her expecting an answer. Something. "Look—the lieutnant probably wants to court-martial me. As far as I'm concerned you two did as well as I could expect."

_____"Yeah?" Dai snorted. "Well fuuuuck him."

_____"Sar'nt has him just about handled, I'd reckon."

_____Kris half-smiled. "Ah. Thanks. What's with you two waving the smokes, though?" Dai blinked, tapped her smoke against the carton and looked from Kris to Bull's lighter. "... you're not waiting for permission, are you?"

_____The burly corporal rubbed at the back of his head. He winced. Kris could see the lump rising there. "Your tank, your rules."
 
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I'm sorry it took so long! My creative spirit was dead, and I actually scrapped the original concept for the chapter. Everyone who read, gave feedback and edited was a tremendous asset.

​
 
Sushi said:
"Negative, Sergeant. We're here to help evacuate the town, not demolish it. Was that unclear?"
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Hah. Haha. Ha. HA. HAHA! HAHAHA!

Wow this guy obviously has no idea what a tank is for does he?

Honestly, this was fantastic. I got a peek at it in beta and it just got better. Like always Sushi nails it to the wall with another fantastic chapter.

It's good to see everyone out and about. It really hammers home the difference between the militia and the regular army, from their attitudes to their responses. Very solid all around.

Nicely done.
 
As someone who highlights the text whenevery they read, the SPACE is really jarring. Think you can replace it with multiple spaces instead?
 
Avalanche said:
EDIT: No it does not. *Sigh* They appear in the editor but are stripped out by the displayed post. Cool story Xenforo.
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That's not Xenforo. HTML in general doesn't recognize whitespace and reduces it to a single space. Even new lines are either a break tag or at the end of a paragraph (the </br> and <p></p> tags, respectively).

Sushi said:
What do people think? XD
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I just found this, and the main plot seems to only just be starting to kick off properly, but I'm enjoying it.
 
pt246 said:
That's not Xenforo. HTML in general doesn't recognize whitespace and reduces it to a single space. Even new lines are either a break tag or at the end of a paragraph (the </br> and <p></p> tags, respectively).

I just found this, and the main plot seems to only just be starting to kick off properly, but I'm enjoying it.
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I'm actually thinking of doing a quick general rewrite, and combining a few of the chapters, like the first and second so there aren't three chapters to go through of battle before things move plot-wise. Might actually remove a fair bit of it too.
 
Sushi said:
I'm actually thinking of doing a quick general rewrite, and combining a few of the chapters, like the first and second so there aren't three chapters to go through of battle before things move plot-wise. Might actually remove a fair bit of it too.
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Please don't that kind of thing tends to kill my ability to follow a story and I'm really enjoying this one.
 
Sushi said:
I'm actually thinking of doing a quick general rewrite, and combining a few of the chapters, like the first and second so there aren't three chapters to go through of battle before things move plot-wise. Might actually remove a fair bit of it too.
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I thought it was a pretty solid set of scenes, and it sets up Kris's character nicely. (I'm actually kinda hoping she runs into someone who recognizes her as the woman who refused to leave a burning TD until she'd killed one last tank, or that she gets told she's been recommended for a medal.) Whether it's too long depends on the scope of the rest of the fic--if it's limited to Vasel and the battle doesn't get massively expanded then it might be disproportionately long.
 
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